Us Chickens
by Jedusor
Summary: Harry, Ron and Hermione attempt to pull a prank on Malfoy, only to find themselves the ones taken by surprise.


"Remind me why we're doing this?"

Ron turned toward Hermione in exasperation, rustling the Invisibility Cloak. "Hermione, you know why. Malfoy is being a cocky bastard and misusing his prefect privileges, so we're taking him down a notch."

Hermione sighed. "I know, but it still seems childish. I mean, Dumbledore chose him to be prefect. He must have had some reason."

"Are you going bonkers? You know Malfoy's not being fair. Besides, you wanted to come."

"That's because I couldn't let you two-"

"Will you please stop it?" Harry asked, in the long-suffering fashion he had come to adopt when his best friends started up their bickering. "Someone will hear us. We'll take you back to the dorm if you want, Hermione."

She fell silent, which meant she still didn't approve, but wasn't going to miss the action. Hermione had been taking that attitude a lot lately, Harry noticed. He hoped it meant she was loosening up, although if she became Head Girl next year (as he and the rest of the school had no doubts she would) her rule-following would only become more irritating.

They crept along the dark corridors toward the Slytherin common room. Ron had somehow managed to obtain the Slytherin password, and he and Harry had decided that they couldn't let this opportunity go by. They hadn't planned on telling Hermione, but she, in that uncannily Hermione-ish way of hers, had figured out enough to confront them. Confronted by a decision between the right thing and revenge, she had chosen to accompany her mischievous comrades on their mission, to ensure that they did no damage. Well, no permanent damage, she assured herself. Or at the very least, nothing fatal.

"Okay, we're here," whispered Harry. "What's the password, Ron?"

"Serpent," Ron said, with a certain air of... well, perhaps not cockiness. Confidence, then. Regardless of its nature, the air was ignored by whatever mechanism controlled the entrance.

Ron muttered something that earned him a reproving glance from Hermione and repeated the password. The stone wall remained stubbornly stone.

They waited for a moment.

"It's not working," Harry said helpfully.

Ron kicked the wall, then uttered a short exclamation similar to his earlier expletive. "Ow!" he added.

"Shall we go back to Gryffindor tower, then?" Hermione started to ask brightly, but only managed up to the word "Gryffindor" before the wall in front of them vanished.

Several emotions crossed her mind. First was disappointment that she had to go through with it. Next was a completely unplanned burst of happiness, that she would finally get back at Malfoy. Last, an equally unplanned wave of surprise at the figure standing in front of them.

Normally, in a yarn such as this, the figure should be Malfoy. Occasionally you will stumble across an author within whose narratives the figure is expected to be Professor Snape. Although both characters will make an appearance in this story, this particular personage was of a different nature entirely.

"_Ginny?_" Ron burst out, unable to restrain his amazement and completely forgetting the cloak that covered the three of them.

"Ron!_"_ moaned Harry, knowing that his friend had just blown their cover.

"_Harry!_" hissed Hermione, elbowing whoever was next to her in the side.

"Hermione!" Ron squeaked in pain.

"_Ron?_" Ginny asked, squinting.

"Ginny?" asked a lazy drawl from out of sight.

"_Malfoy?_" chorused Harry, Ron and Hermione.

"Draco..." Ginny murmured, still staring quizzically into the darkness.

"_Draco?_" Ron said incredulously.

"_Weasley?_" asked Malfoy in the same tone.

"Ron," said Hermione despairingly, but the damage was done. Whether it was either permanent or fatal remained to be seen.

"What the hell are you doing in the Slytherin common room at midnight with that slimeball?" demanded Ron of Ginny.

"What the hell are _you_ doing in _front _of the Slytherin common room at midnight, with Harry and Hermione, _invisible_?" countered his sister, staring at a spot about two inches above Hermione's head.

"Invis- oh, right." Ron sounded sheepish. "Um, sorry. I forgot."

"You should be," muttered Hermione darkly, but quietly enough that no one could hear.

Malfoy blinked, but recovered quickly from the shock. "Well, I don't think you have anything else to hide, Potter, so why don't you and your little friends come out from your hiding place?"

Ginny shot him a look. "You be civil."

"Why should I? They were the ones who-"

"Draco." Ginny's voice was stern, and her eyes were cold. For a moment, her expression closely resembled the one usually worn by its recipient. Malfoy stepped back to let them in.

"How did you _do_ that, Gin?" Ron asked wonderingly as they entered and removed the cloak. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

Malfoy settled himself into a high-backed chair in front of the fire, and Ginny seated herself comfortably on his lap. "I would think your sister's business here was obvious, Weasley, not that it concerns you. However, I think you owe us an explanation before demanding one yourself."

Ron was too busy fighting the restraining hands of Harry and Hermione to respond.

"Relax, Ron," Ginny told him. "Draco isn't going to hurt me, and he's not going to hurt you either unless you make the first move. So quit struggling. You're on Slytherin

now."

Harry's forehead wrinkled. "Ginny, what on earth has happened to you? Did he put a spell on you or something?"

"No. I've been coming here once a week since fourth year. If you can find a spell that lasts that long, let me know."

"It was my aloof demeanor that started it," added Malfoy.

"Shut up, you. It was the fact that you're hotter than Gilderoy Lockhart, and you know it." She gave him a quick peck and glanced at her brother.

Ron collapsed onto a sofa. "This is wrong on so many levels," he moaned into his palms.

Harry sat down next to him. "Seriously, Gin, what happened? You would never have done this back in second year."

"Maybe if you'd paid attention to me as more than just another doting fan, you might have noticed that I am no longer twelve," she said icily. "As it is, you barely know me, so don't make judgments as to what I would and would not do."

Hermione, the only one of them left standing, approached Ginny warily. "Harry might not know you well, Ginny, but I do. I thought I did, anyway."

Ginny opened her mouth to answer, but closed it again quickly, shoved Hermione back onto the sofa with Ron and Harry, and tossed the cloak over the three of them. She got back to Malfoy's lap just in time for a familiar voice to demand, "Who's making such a racket out here?"

"Nobody in here except us chickens, Professor," Malfoy called back innocently. Ron made an involuntary noise, but Snape, fortunately, did not notice.

"I should have known. Keep your midnight shenanigans quiet, would y

ou, Draco?"

"Yes, Professor."

Snape retreated into whatever damp cave he slept in, and Harry tossed off the cloak. "Wow, that was close," he said quietly.

Ron had more important issues to deal with than the possibility of expulsion.

"CHICKENS?"

Hermione clapped a hand over his mouth. "Hush, Ron! Do you want us to get caught?"

"No, but _chickens?_"

"Chickens, Weasley. The kind that cluck and lay eggs and run around headless before they die." Malfoy wrapped his arms loosely around Ginny's waist. Ron's eyes narrowed and Harry hastily grabbed his arm again.

"Get off, Harry." Ron shook off Harry's hand, but continued to glare at Malfoy.

"So," Ginny said as if she hadn't noticed, "you three still haven't explained why you're here. Tell me, what mission would you have at the Slytherin common room at midnight?"

"Er," said Ron eloquently.

Malfoy smiled, running a hand up and down Ginny's back. "Don't tell me, Potter. You don't like the way I've been acting lately, because I'm a prefect and you're not. Therefore, you decided to get back at me with some prank, and Weasley just happened to have the Slytherin password. Am I right?"

Harry gaped. "How did you... what... you..."

"You have such intelligent, articulate friends, Ginny," Draco told her dryly.

"My brother and his pal do not count as my friends, and I seriously doubt you can reduce Hermione to a state of speechlessness," Ginny retorted.

"Indeed." Hermione stood up, taking the cloak with her. "Much as I am enjoying your less than charming company, Malfoy, we must now take our leave. Unless you'd rather stay?" She directed this last toward Ron and Harry, who sprung up as if they had been sitting on porcupines. "And, Ginny, I recommend you not sneak around at night. I won't turn you in, unless..."

Leaving the threat hanging, she wrapped the cloak around herself and her companions and departed.

As the wall closed behind them, Ginny removed her behind from Malfoy's lap with remarkable speed. "Okay, I've done my part, now sign the statement."

"First, what was that about me being hotter than Gilderoy Lock-"

"Shut up and sign the statement or I'm going after them this second!" Ginny shoved a roll of parchment at him and crossed her arms.

"All right, all right." He read the parchment aloud. "'I, Draco Malfoy, do swear to remain silent regarding all aspects of the incident heretofore referred to as the "Waxed Toilet Paper Incident," including but not limited to its date of occurrence, perpetrators, victims, materials utilized, and results. If I should break this agreement, I do swear to send myself hurtling from the Astronomy Tower wearing Ron's former dress robes and screaming, 'The pickles were my fault"...' pickles? What pickles?"

"Will you just trust me when I say you don't want to know?"

"Fine." He signed his name with a flourish and handed the parchment back to her. "Thanks, Gin. It was fun."

"They're never going to trust me again, you know." She blew on the ink to dry it and stuck it back in her bag.

He smirked. "And with good reason. Do they even know about the 'Waxed Toilet Paper Incident'?"

"No, and let's keep it that way."

He held out his hand. "You know, you're a really good actress, unless you have certain hidden feelings."

She stared at the proffered hand as if she were about to lean down and bite one of his fingers off.

"It's a hand. You're supposed to shake it when someone holds it out toward you."

She gave him a look.

"Fine, be a bad sport," he snapped irritably and withdrew the hand.

Ginny took a few steps toward the door, then turned around. "Listen, Malfoy, I have two things I want to say to you now that I have this statement signed and I don't have to worry about politeness. First, you are a self-centered, slimy, cruel, cold-hearted asshole."

"Why, thank you."

"And second..." She moved close enough for the wall to open. "Looks-wise, Gilderoy Lockhart does not even begin to compare."


End file.
